


Baby did a bad, bad thing

by gidget_84



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gidget_84/pseuds/gidget_84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 AU<br/>Teen Wolf/Vampire Diaries/The Originals crossover<br/>A different history of Beacon Hills is told to Lydia<br/>---------------------------------------------</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The moment he bursts out of that hole in the floor, Lydia is having doubts that this was such a good idea. 

He’d said she could have her normal life back, and that’s what drove her to such extreme lengths; poisoning her friends and her…her Jackson, blowing the equivalent of fairy dust into Derek’s face, dragging him here, putting his and her lives in danger, resurrecting something…someone she didn’t quite understand, all to get her life back to at least a semblance of what it used to be.

No matter how superficial that was; that old life had her friends decently happy, Jackson being a douchy but perfect boyfriend, her mother not so afraid to find her covered in blood again that she had distanced herself from her own daughter; most of all, it was _normal_ and not this freak show it had become.

But this? In the middle of an old basement, Derek passed out on the floor, and a naked (but hot, her mind quickly adds) man…beast…thing covered in dirt, _this_ was not her life getting back to normal; this was the beginning of another nightmare. 

This is the first and only time she will _ever_ regret making a dumb decision.

 ———-

Lost in thought with an equally lost look on her face, she’s currently staring to the right of him and trying very hard not to look down.

He snaps her out of it when he slinks, yes he _slinks,_ over to her and puts his fingers under her chin, bringing her eyes to look at his.

“And you…my dear Lydia, can I just say bravo! Deceiving your friends, hurting them, putting my nephew here in dangers way…if I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were meant for each other; so very selfish”—coming out of his mouth like the hissing of a snake.

She flinches when he makes a sudden movement, grabbing her about the arms and pulling her against himself; he actually hugs her, his lips at her ear “Just wanted to say _thank you so very much_. Without you, _none_ of this would have been possible.” 

She can hear the smirk in his voice, and feels the icy hand of death slip down her spine…except it stops at her hip and she realizes it was his hand on her back.

When he finally moves away from her, the breath she had held slips out and she feels like she’s going crazy… _again_.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she wills it all to go away, to just wake up from this nightmare.  Opening her eyes, he’s nowhere to be found and she wonders briefly if she had imagined it. 

But Derek is still on the floor and there’s still an empty hole where the floorboards should be.

———-

She kneels down next to Derek, just trying to make sure he’s still alive; she leans down towards his face and can feel breath stirring her hair, when his hand comes up, grabs her about the throat, and suddenly he’s getting up and lifting her into the air.

“What did you do?” he yells at her, a growl escaping.

She’s trying to pry his hand from around her neck, when Peter appears behind him, knocking him back to the floor; she falls forward onto her hands and knees, choking and trying to breathe.

He kicks Derek once and says in a low voice “Don’t ever touch her like that again; I don’t want to hurt you boy…but you see, you _did_ kill me.  Don’t give me more of a reason to return the favor.”

———-

He looks to Lydia, “You okay?” She’s sitting on the floor, rubbing at her throat and just nods.

“Alright, come on then, let’s go, I need your help here”; He hauls her up by an arm, practically dragging her with him.

The act itself brings her out of the shock and stupor, and she pulls her arm back. 

“If you people don’t _stop_ grabbing at me, choking me, and generally just being assholes” she says, her voice getting louder, “I _will_ release the inner crazy bitch on all of you! Do you understand? You have put me through hell; don’t think I can’t put _you_ through worse. Remember, I brought you back, I at least deserve some respect, you crazy werewolf motherfucker!”

She’s breathing heavily when she’s done speaking and he starts laughing at her.

“Are you done with your little speech, princess?”

She’s about to start yelling at him again, when he cuts her off “Yes, okay…no more manhandling you, but just…come on.”

She reluctantly follows him into the bathroom, and she’s so angry she had actually forgotten he was still very much naked.

———-

He had run the water in the bathtub and filled it up while Derek was busy with her. 

Before she can open her mouth to say anything, he slips into the tub.  Looking back at her he says “I already have clothes and towels, I just need you to do one tiny thing for me.”  

She raises her eyebrows in question and walks over to the tub.  He hands her a huge bath brush? 

“Can you scrub all that dirt off my back? I can’t quite reach.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 2 AU  
> Teen Wolf/Vampire Diaries/The Originals crossover  
> A different history of Beacon Hills is told to Lydia  
> \-----------------------------------------------

Derek is long gone by the time she leaves Peter to finish practically scrubbing his skin off in the bathroom. She can’t believe how much dirt there was, it’s almost caked onto her palms now and under her fingernails; this is so disgusting. When she gets home she’ll be in the shower forever scrubbing her own skin off.

She should just leave now, while she could without him noticing; but she wants to know why. Why her? What was the whole immunity thing, anyway?

So instead she wanders the halls, looking in rooms that she vaguely remembered from her dreams; and has that changed? Will he no longer torment her with images both terrifying and heartbreaking? Will he still haunt her dreams, still read her mind like he’s inside her brain; will he still be in _control_ of her life?

———-

She finds one room that has a mattress on the floor, and assumes it must be Derek’s, since he actually lives there.

Sitting on the mattress she wonders why he doesn’t live somewhere else; somewhere that isn’t his burned out family home.

So she sits and waits…and waits…and waits. She wishes there was a clock in here, so she can count the number of minutes she’s had to herself.  The number of minutes, she hasn’t had to herself without Peter manipulating her mind; pulling and maneuvering it like the strings of a marionette.

———-

She starts thinking about her friends…and that _word_ doesn’t sound right anymore, does it?

Who the hell did they think they were?  Keeping something like this a huge secret…this…this _thing_ a secret from her.  No one kept things from her, and if they did _those_ things weren’t important.

Suddenly she’s so angry she could scream; she almost wants to go back to the bathroom and see if she can drown him.

But then she thinks… _No…this is what they deserve_ ; if they had told her anything or paid her even an ounce of attention they would have seen her cries for help. 

She tried to at least talk to Allison, but even she didn’t have enough time for her so-called “best friend”. 

She had been literally thrust out into the cold to fend for herself against the mother of all killer werewolves; threatening to huff and puff and _blow her mentally and emotionally down_.

He had broken her down and hollowed her out, until all that was left of her mind was a shell; a shell he could burrow into and use on a whim.

She’ll be messed up for the rest of her life because of him, but the worst part, is that she no longer has _anyone_ to trust. They all lied and practically pushed her into the wolves (lions) den, pushed her off the metaphorical cliff where insanity waited to cushion her fall.

She wants to curl up into a ball and sob until the tears dry up and she has nothing left; but she can’t because she’s too damned tired, too damned angry; she can’t even feel numb.

She thinks she could kill them for putting her through this: shoot Allison in the heart with her own bow and arrow; blow holes into Scott with silver bullets until there was nothing left; verbally abuse Stiles until he’s a shivering mess on the floor, and then forge a sword from his “nice guy” attitude and wield it to cut off his head; and Jackson? She had no idea if he was involved at all, but she could kill him too.

Her fingernails are cutting into the palms of her hands, from balling them into fists; blood dripping down her wrists.  She wouldn’t be surprised if there was actual steam coming out of her ears, she was so angry.

———-

The anger and fear had taken their toll on her mind and body, and she falls into a fitful sleep. 

———-

Awakening from being so cold, she doesn’t recognize the room at first; a small throw blanket had been covering her. She pulls the blanket closer, taking in her surroundings and realizes she’s still in the old Hale house.

Her head is killing her as bits and pieces of the night start coming back. _He_ had come back with her help, and then she helped him bathe? That seemed so absurd to think about; but when looking at her hands she notices the dirt is still there.

She closes her eyes and images start flashing before her; images of what must have happened after she had come to this room…wait…no, of what she must have been dreaming…

———-

Peter Hale clean and like new, like he had never died in the first place; all the dirt gone from his body. He had stood up, water dripping; she averted her eyes as he got out of the tub and dried himself off.

———-

Then suddenly they were in this room, he had carried her there and then they were both naked.

Flashes of tangled legs, hands all over each other, lips and tongues, kissing— marking each other everywhere, naked limbs glistening in sweat, and the beating of two very _alive_ hearts; her moans drowning out all of the dirty things he kept whispering in her ear; bodies pulsing, and moving to that age old primal rhythm.

Telling her _how special she was, that he was there for her, that they were connected in mind as well as body now_.

———-

Shuddering to think of it, she’s just glad it was a dream and nothing more. She’s about to just forget about asking him anything and leave when he finally struts into the room; she rolls her eyes at just how much of a bad-ass he thinks he is. He’s dressed and got that long leather jacket on again, the one he always wore in her dreams and hallucinations.

It fits him like he was born with it and she has to stifle a laugh when she imagines him wearing it like a cape before turning into a bat and flying off; but that’s vampires and he’s very much a big hairy werewolf.

———-

“I see you found Derek’s room; you know _this_ is actually his room. The room he had before that bitch burned our house down.”

She’s somber again at that and just looks at the floor instead of him.

He comes over and lies down on the bed beside her. “Well isn’t this familiar?” he chuckles, reminding her of the night before when he had appeared in her bed.

“So you’re still here…I would have thought you’d be long gone by now. You’ve done all that I asked of you Lydia, you don’t need to hang around.”

He turns on his side, one arm propping his head up to look at her questioningly.

When she finds her voice, it comes out more scared than she meant it to; a slight quiver that she couldn’t keep inside.

She cuts right to the chase, “Why did you pick _me_? Out of everyone in this town, in this country, on this planet, you chose me to bring you back. I want to know why.”

He sighs exasperatedly, “I thought we’d already been over this. I told you, I picked you because you’re immune.”

“Yes, but what does that even mean?” she counters

“It’s simple really, you were born that way. Other people are too, it’s not only you, you’re not _special_.”  He has that grin on his face; the one that says _you’re nothing, I’m the only one here and you don’t even exist_.

“Then why not pick them? You’re obviously evading my question.”

In a bored tone, like he has it memorized, he says “You’re immune, meaning you can’t turn and wolfs-bane doesn’t affect you, like it did your friends. You’re also conveniently living in the same town, you were exactly where I needed you at the dance, and you’re smart. Not Stiles level of intelligence, no you’re so much more than that, you have no idea what you are capable of, or what you could become with the right hand to guide you.”

She scoffs, “I’m assuming you mean _your_ hand?”

He smirks at her, “Well if that’s what you want.”

His hand starts crawling up her leg before she smacks it away, “No manhandling. Or…or touching, remember?”

“Yes Miss Lydia.”

She rolls her eyes again, “Okay and you’re done making me your puppet and all that entails, right?”

He puts his hand to his chest in mock indignation, and says “Yes, of course. I’m here, aren’t I? Your part of my resurrection is complete. I don’t need to be in that pretty head of yours anymore”.

“However, that doesn’t mean I can’t be…see what you are failing to understand, is that I am a _part of you now_. Since I bit you, we’re _connected_ in a way.”

 His hand goes to cup her cheek and she wants to recoil, but whatever “connection” he’s talking about, won’t allow it.

“You’re so beautiful, my lovely girl…Lydia, my _savior_.” He leans in to kiss her, but she turns her head and his lips find her neck instead.

He chuckles against her throat, and she can feel the reverberation going down her spine… “You were such an _animal_ …you gave even me a run for my money” his words surpassing her paralyzed state.

She goes to slap him, but he easily evades her hand by catching it with his own. 

His eyes narrow at her, and in a low threatening tone he says “I’ll let you in on a little secret, as much as your righteous anger humors me, I won’t be like your friends. I won’t keep things from you.   I may have manipulated your mind a bit to be in your dream tonight, but it wasn’t real. Even if you really did seem to enjoy it” a smirk growing on his face, “but really, I would _never_ take advantage of you like that. Just don’t ever _think_ to try to raise a hand or anything like it to me again.”

———-

She sighs and just says, “What is your deal anyway? I know I’m immune now, but what’s with coming into my dreams? What is it exactly that you _want_ from me, now?”

What she really wants to ask is, why are you so…so… _cold_?

———-

She gasps when he’s suddenly on top of her, his face inches from her own, his hands pinning her wrists, “You want to know that badly?”

“Yes” she says in a small voice, his fingers digging into her skin as she tries to hold her own, not be frightened of him.

 “Stay still then, I’ll show you…close your eyes.”

He leans forward to put his lips to hers—she startles at first, “Sshh, don’t worry, I just need you to see what happened to me and understand why I needed you to bring me back Lydia”.

He tries kissing her again, she’s still this time; “you can trust me Lydia, I’ve never lied to you”.  He kisses her and the effect is immediate—the feel of his lips on hers, lights up her mind, like a flashbulb going off—-she’s outside the Hale house, it’s on fire, screaming, wails of agony can be heard.  She sees Laura run out, and then Derek comes out with Peter, unconscious.  

There is nothing he can do as he falls to the ground with Peter; tears streaming down Derek’s face as he listens to the last of the screaming as the house is engulfed in flames, and then it’s over—-just like that.  Derek vows to kill whoever did this.

———-

Lydia can’t comfort him, can’t do anything but watch.  He runs to the hospital with his uncle. 

Months and years, pass in seconds before her eyes; Derek visits for a while, but loses hope that Peter will ever be okay again, so he stops going,

———

She can’t take all of this pain and pulls away from Peter’s lips, but can’t get away from him.  He frees her wrists and she tries to push him off of her, but he’s as immovable as stone.

Putting his hands to her face instead, she can hear in her mind “No Lydia, stop, you have to _see_.”  She stops struggling, to be hypnotized by the blue of his eyes piercing her own.  His forehead briefly touching her own, as they both breathe heavily.

———-

She nods and he catches her mouth again; the kiss is deeper, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she is plunged back into the past.

This time all she sees is a black void.  “Where am I?” she asks.  His voice echoes in her mind “In my head…after”… 

There’s just nothing; nothing at all. She walks around determined to find something, anything recognizable, she can’t believe this could happen to anyone; this vast emptiness.

She comes to a door, the only thing there; she recognizes the Hale front door, old, and rotted.  Opening the door and it’s exactly the same; an empty shell of a house. No more laughter, no more sadness, no more happiness—-all empty; as empty of emotion as Peter was now.

———-

She turns into the kitchen, a brief flash of Derek, Laura, and Peter laughing, while the children played; and then there’s the fire and the smoke, and shouting.  The children already dead on the floor and the others nowhere in sight; she backs away from the image of their faces permanently frozen, in the act of trying to take their final breath.  Her hands come up to her face; she can’t stand the sight, the smoke stinging her eyes and clogging her lungs.  She can’t breathe, oh god, she can’t breathe. 

Peter pulls away from her, frightened eyes meeting his, tears falling down her face.  “Oh god” she says and buries her face into his chest, as his arms go around her.  He’s holding her as she takes deep breaths trying to control the sobbing.

The pain in her heart and mind are magnified whether from being around him or just remembering everything she’d seen.  He’s whispering in her ear “Everything’s alright, it’s okay…you’re here, it wasn’t real.” 

She pulls back long enough to look him in the eyes again “It was real for you, it’s still real for you.  Being in that place, all those years; stuck with the image of your house burning down all around you over and over again; hearing their pitiful cries and not being able to do anything; Stuck with all that pain, all that grief, all that emptiness.”

She puts a hand up to his face, cupping a cheek. “I understand…I understand why you needed someone and no one was there… just like I’ve needed someone.”

The pain in his eyes recedes a bit and he laughs “Oh Lydia, don’t you get it? That’s what I needed you for, to bring me back. You were my cure, you were my answer… _I could use you to find them_.”

———-

He kisses her one last time and this time she sees them. The literal fire-starters, and it’s not only Kate.  There’s two others there…no wait, there’s three. One other woman, a blonde that lights a match; and two men, one carrying a can of gasoline, and the other what looks to be an actual torch.

There’s so much smoke that it’s hard to really see them, to distinguish them if she had to out of a group of people.

Kate is already gone and these three douse everything that isn’t already burning in gasoline, then the match and the torch follow after.

Instead of only one section, now the whole house is aflame; the three shout at one another before speeding off in the blink of an eye.  She keeps looking in the direction they went, but she can’t see them at all, it’s like they actually disappeared right before her eyes; she’s never seen anyone or anything move that fast.  Not even the werewolves.

She gasps when he pulls away from her.

“Did you see them this time?” he asks, and almost shakes her in his urgency to know.

“Yes…I thought it was only Kate, but then I saw them, the other three. Who are they? Do you even know?”

———-

At her question he grimly shakes his head and the way he looks is like a punch in the gut.  “I always knew it wasn’t only Kate Argent that set the fire that killed my family; one person alone couldn’t have caused that much damage in such a short period of time.”

“It was one of those things that I always questioned, how one person could have done that…then in the hospital as my mind slowly healed, bits and pieces of that day came back to me and I knew I could have sworn I had seen others there as well. But I never found out who they were, there was no time; after I had taken out my revenge on Kate, Derek killed me.”

———-

“Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah…” she mutters and he looks at her in surprise.  “They were shouting to one another, Rebekah was calling to them and urging them to leave; and Klaus said something to her.  I can’t remember what, but I know he said her name.”

Peter’s face had gone stone cold; the emotionless face of a dead man replacing what little life she had seen in his face before.

They sit in silence for so long that his voice startles her, “I _know_ who they are.”

———-

“They are part of the Original family of vampires that used to live here; I had heard they were terrorizing Mystic Falls when I was awake the first time. “

“You see, werewolves and humans lived together for a very long time; we co-existed. Maybe not always peacefully, but peaceful enough, until their mother turned them into blood-thirsty immortal beings; they hunted us, and drove us from our rightful land. Here, Beacon Hills. My family came only so many decades ago, we’re the descents of our great werewolf ancestors, the ones who lived here among the Originals for a time.”

———-

Lydia has gone completely silent as he gives her his own family history lesson.  Her mind however, is in chaos; just when you think everything is over, and everything _might_ be okay again. Just to be knocked upside the head with knowledge that not only do werewolves exist, but _vampires_ do too. 

She looks at the ceiling briefly, what the hell was this world coming to? Was he going to tell her unicorns were real too, and that they secretly wait for you to be alone to stab you to death; or that mermaids were the actual reason for people drowning in the ocean?

“I have no idea if either of those things exist Lydia…but leprechauns…oh they are some of the nastiest things you’ll ever encounter” he suddenly says.

“Will you get out of my head…and you’ve got to be kidding me…”

“I am…but the look on your face was too precious”, he says.

———-

“But first, we need to take care of our packs: both of them.  We need to be ready when the Originals come back.  For whatever reason they are trying to reclaim this place as their own again; we will have to fight as one, all of us. So I’m sorry, but I’m not quite ready to give up my cold-heart just yet” and he smirks at her.

“I’ll need you at my side, Lydia. For us to be strong we need to be united against them; if the packs see we can be good together, they will follow our lead.”

At that, he takes her hand, kisses her palm, and brings it up to his heart. “Remember, we are connected as one now.”

He actually smiles at her this time, and she can finally smile back.


End file.
